With mashed potatoes

I have been hung up on Rufus Wainwright for a couple of weeks now; beats me why. I guess something about the overblown... languidness? is hitting me properly. I don't know. Probably less than twenty percent of the sentiments actually resonate with me personally, even of my favorite songs, not that this stops me. I've also gone through periods where his dramatic wallowiness is too much, naturally, but that is not right now. It's also nice having most of his work be comfortably inside my singing-along range (his voice, I heard him talking in an interview on NPR and it's highish but really scratchy, like long-term smoking. You know me and weird voices).
I bought his latest album for chmmr's sister back when we were in Texas, and their parents were all, oh, more of Rufus Wainwright? all disappointed and slightly distasteful. The thought bubble over my head contained the Grinch smiling in grand Chuck Jones stylee.